Elephant Thief

by Lia Patterson

  Feeling tired, I slumped down on the bench at the table and rested my head on my hands. “Nevertheless it can’t have been easy for you to treat with your enemy, I do appreciate it.”

  Rhys looked at me searchingly. “Arisha, when did you last eat?” he asked all of a sudden.

  I blinked up at him stupidly. “At breakfast, I suppose.” Though that had only been a slice of bread, eaten on the go.

  “I thought as much. And you helped to get the hall ready as well, didn’t you?” Without waiting for an answer he started to rummage through some shelves of Dillan’s, finally coming up triumphant with a tin of tea.

  I watched him stir the banked fire in the brazier the master builder used to warm his hut and put a tea kettle on it. He moved with quiet concentration, his stern face relaxed for once, and despite the many people outside the hut, the moment held a strange intimacy. The hum of their talking seemed to fade away.

  His forehead creased in thought, Rhys blew on the coals. “You know, your Navid is a good man, but he should never have brought his wife into danger.”

  “The officers are posted away from home for many months on end,” I explained, “sometimes even years. Of course they want to have their family with them.”

  Rhys stared into the glowing coals, their flickering light playing across his face and making the feather braided into his hair shimmer. “Even so.” He looked up, straight at me. “I will never again let something happen to those I love, not if I can help it in any way. I would keep my lady safe.”

  A slow wave of heat rose within me that surely had to show on my face. What did he mean by that? Unable to meet his steady regard, I lowered my eyes and studied the pitted surface of the table. The crumpled missive bearing Bahram’s offer still lay where Rhys had dropped it, and I picked it up and smoothed it out.

  A typical message between two parties at war, I thought as I perused it in an effort to distract myself from what Rhys had said, containing all the usual flowers of speech. The only surprise were the five talents of gold offered for the return of ‘the affianced of the Lord Sattar, Master of Elephants to the most puissant and magnificent Prince Bahram, glorious scion of the House of Emperor Firooz’. It still puzzled me what had offended Rhys so much. Surely he hadn’t taken all the verbiage about the threats of divine retribution seriously? Unless it was the offer itself? The thought made my throat go dry.

  With a clink Rhys set down a mug of tea in front of me. “Here you are. I’m afraid I have nothing better to go with it than some dried biscuits though,” he said.

  “That’s fine,” I croaked.

  He slid onto the bench opposite me and blew gently into his own mug. “Careful, it’s hot.”

  Distracted by my thoughts, I nodded and took a big swallow. A mistake! The tea seared my mouth and brought tears to my eyes. What had got into me? I was acting like a silly girl pining over her first love! Damn Lady Luned for making me so uncomfortable in his presence.

  “Won’t your people out there be missing you?” I asked. Lady Enit for sure wouldn’t like the idea of the two of us closeted together. On the other hand, what could Rhys possibly do in a small hut like this? Or could he? Involuntarily the dire warnings of one of the camp matrons that men only wanted a single thing flashed through my mind.

  Unaware of my tumultuous thoughts, Rhys turned his mug round in his hands. “I’m sure Taren has things under control,” he answered. Then he took a deep breath. “Arisha, there’s something I need to tell you.”

  “Yes?” I asked, my mind preoccupied with mastering my contrary emotions. What was the matter with me!

  He hunched his shoulders and stared into his mug. “We’re leaving tomorrow.”

  “What?”

  “It has been decided to seek the final confrontation with the Sikhandi army. I’ll announce it at the feast tonight.”

  His words were like a bucket of cold water emptied over my head; all other considerations melted away. “What? You can’t!” The thought of him going into battle clamped my heart like a fist of ice. What if he got killed!

  “Arisha, please sit down,” he told me. I realised I had risen to my feet. As I sank down on the bench again, he took my hand. “Do not worry, Hami is safe. I wouldn’t risk taking an elephant I can’t control with me.”

  Hami! To my shame his fate had not entered my mind at all. I lowered my head. “But so soon!”

  “The decision was taken yesterday.”

  So he had known while we had argued about whether to receive Navid or not, while I had tried to convince him to attempt to forge a peace. Well, it was certainly true that I didn’t know his plans!

  “Congratulations,” I said, feeling bitter, “in that case you’ve reached your goal.”

  He dropped my hand and looked away. “I suppose so. It was simply a necessary compromise.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I would have liked to harry the enemy longer, to soften him up,” he answered, “but the others insisted we take a stand.”

  Soften up the enemy. My people. Rhys turned his mug round in his hands and studied it, as if he could read the future in there. “They felt we should stop lurking and fight openly. I could not risk having the alliance fall apart.”

  So not even Rhys always got his way. Suddenly what Cerwen had said about Pellyn not minding to see him fail came back to me. What would happen if Rhys died in battle, could Pellyn pick up the pieces? Had that been his intention all the time, to step into Rhys’s place like a vulture feasting on the fallen? I realised that I had clenched my fists and slowly relaxed them. It was none of my concern.

  Another thought hit me: his plans had already been decided when he made me promise not to escape for the next five days. To stop me from warning Prince Bahram? And I had trusted him!

  That moment he fixed me with that disconcerting gaze of his. “Arisha, why didn’t you tell me your real reason for running away from the Sikhandi camp?”

  That was rich coming from him! And what did it matter to him anyway? “You haven’t exactly been up front with me either,” I snapped.

  His jaw clenched. “I am now,” he answered, “for I wanted you to hear the news from me first.”

  My anger ran out of me like water from a broken pot, leaving me empty and numb. “I don’t know,” I said. “I suppose I felt that I didn’t want to give you any further advantage, since you used every bit of knowledge against me.”

  “That was not my intention.” He reached across the table to cradle my cheek in his hand. “My quarrel is with Prince Bahram. I am not at war with you.”

  Again I felt like a Shah pawn moved by forces outside my control. His palm felt warm against my skin, and the temptation to lean into his caress was almost overwhelming. Yet to take his side would mean to forsake all my loyalties. How could I applaud his war and cheer him on while he killed my countrymen? Tears pricked my eyes. A pawn could not change its colour and this wasn’t Tafl where we could play together.

  I moved back and broke our tenuous contact. “Rhys, I am a Sikhandi mage.”

  His hand dropped to the table. “And I am the Eagle of Aneirion.”

  We looked at each other, two people separated by an impassable gulf. Abruptly he pushed back the bench and rose. The curtain serving as a door swished softly as he pulled it aside and left the hut without another word.

  I picked up the crumpled letter from Prince Bahram that Rhys had left lying on the table and smoothed it out. On the bottom was affixed the seal of the Victorious Fifth, the striking leopard. Slowly I traced the curling lines of the snarling beast. Leopard or Eagle, who would win? Either way I would lose.

  The place on my cheek where Rhys had touched me still seemed to hold the memory of his warmth.

  TWENTY

  I don’t know how long I sat at that pitted table in the small hut, my thoughts going round in circles, and tried to find a way to reconcile our two peoples. It was no use. Eventually I pulled myself together and left, finding Owl waiting for me outside, whet
her to keep me safe or to make sure nobody else got the idea of collecting those ten talents of gold, I didn’t know.

  It was a relief when we reached Rhys’s house and I could escape into the courtyard and Hami’s company. The boys looking after him had other duties preparing the hall for the feast, so the elephant was bored. He wrapped his trunk around me, and I leant into him, glad for his dependable support.

  “You’re safe,” I whispered, remembering Rhys’s words.

  Once that would have been the only thing that mattered to me, now I only felt a deep emptiness inside me. Hami huffed softly in inquiry. I stroked his wrinkled skin and decided to fetch a bucket of water and brushes to give him a thorough grooming.

  At least the hard physical work took my mind off my worries for a little time. The final touch was to scrub him gently on the feet with the pumice stone, which he greatly enjoyed. His evening meal arrived soon after, and I left him happily munching on a pile of fresh grass.

  Back in Cerwen’s room I found her waiting for me impatiently. “There you are!” she exclaimed. “But just look at the state of you!”

  Guiltily I glanced down at my tunic splattered with water and mud. “I’ve given Hami a wash.”

  “And transferred all the dirt from him to you?” She shoved a jug of warm water at me. “Never mind. Here, use this. And afterwards you’d better make up your mind what you want to wear tonight.” She waved at my bed.

  I stared in surprise at the heap of different coloured dresses lying there. “What’s this?”

  “Grandmother sent them with strict instructions to make yourself presentable.”

  She hustled me through a quick wash and threw a white shift over my head, which laced at the back. “Which gown would you like to wear?” she asked while she ran a brush through my hair.

  I considered the dresses, ranging from ivory over pale rose to light blue. With my heart heavy in my breast, I wasn’t really looking forward to attending the feast, but Cerwen obviously expected me to. And there was Lady Luned to be reckoned with as well. I wouldn’t have put it past the old lady to personally make sure I showed up. “I don’t really care,” I answered.

  Cerwen nodded at Prince Bahram’s crumpled letter, which had dropped from the pocket of my trousers, where I had stuffed it. “You’re not upset about Rhys refusing that Sikhandi lord’s offer, are you?” she asked. “Surely you don’t want to go back there? I thought you liked it here.”

  “They are my people,” I pointed out.

  Silently she picked up the ivory dress from the bed and motioned for me to step into it. “Try this one.” The fine fabric whispered across my skin, and I noticed with surprise that the bodice had tiny seed pearls stitched all over it. Lady Luned had not stinted me! When Cerwen fastened the laces, I had to draw in my breath, and it felt most odd to have my chest constricted in such a way. Also the neckline showed much more of my charms than any of my Sikhandi robes!

  “Arisha,” Cerwen said hesitantly, “perhaps you could become one of us?”

  My hands bunched on the dress. “After you’ve killed all my friends in the Sikhandi camp?” Poor Navid for example!

  “It might not come to that,” she answered. “There’s time yet. I had hoped perhaps with the prince sending an envoy…” Her voice petered out, as I stared at her. “What is it?”

  Surely she had to know? “Rhys intends to seek a decisive confrontation,” I answered. “He will leave tomorrow.”

  The blood drained from her face. “What?”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, feeling guilty for not having broken the news more gently. “But he’ll announce it tonight.”

  “So that explains…” She bit her lip.

  “Explains what?”

  “Taren wanted to speak to me earlier on.” Cerwen picked up her skirts. “I need to go! You can sort yourself out, can’t you?”

  “Of course,” I answered, but I was speaking to an empty room. She had already rushed out the door.

  I sank down on the bed, surprised that Rhys should have told me more than he had confided to his own cousin. Or had he been afraid I might make a scene at the announcement? No, that suspicion did him wrong, he had simply wanted to reassure me on Hami’s fate. As for why…

  Finally I could no longer deny it to myself: he cared for me.

  At least a little. I remembered the way he had touched my cheek, how his voice had softened. What had happened to the harsh, pitiless man who had captured me only seven days ago? His intentions…I did not know at all. For certain, Rhys was no longer the idealistic youth who had offered a Sikhandi courtesan his hand. And whatever his feelings for me, they did not divert him from his chosen path.

  As for my own feelings? I sat there in my borrowed dress and forced myself to examine my heart. At first I tried to remind myself of the man’s annoying habits, especially his dictatorial manner, but something the great general Rastam tal Nasar had said came back to me: if you do not know yourself, you will lose all your battles.

  So I admitted the truth. Yes, I liked Rhys. Probably more than I should. Although I couldn’t even have said exactly why. His unexpected kindness when taking my mind off my mother’s death while walking down from the Eyrie the other day? The way he had respected my opinions regarding Prince Bahram’s offer? Or simply how the corners of his mouth twitched with hidden amusement when I gave Pellyn a piece of my mind concerning his skill as a Shah player?

  I closed my eyes and pictured his face in my mind. It was much too stern to be called handsome, with none of Sattar’s suave elegance, but beneath the Eagle’s harshness lurked another, gentler man. A man I would have liked to get to know better. Involuntarily I wondered how it would feel to twine my hands through that blond hair, to touch him… The mental image brought me up short. What was I thinking of! Just because he had shown a little interest did not mean I had to let my imagination run wild.

  That moment a horn sounded outside, and abruptly reality closed in on me again, like cold water over a swimmer’s head.

  I jumped to my feet. The call to the feast. Where Rhys would announce his decision to march on the enemy. My people. Cerwen had left her mirror lying on the bedside table, and I picked it up and studied my reflection. Somehow it seemed appropriate that I should be wearing white – belonging to none of the elements and thus considered powerless in Sikhand. When I regarded myself in the mirror, I felt like looking at a stranger.

  The dress was a statement, I thought. Or maybe an offer by Lady Luned, a step on the road to becoming one of them. And the end of the road beckoned enticingly: acceptance, new friends, perhaps Rhys himself…?

  I reached round the back and began to untie the laces. It would also mean changing myself into something unrecognisable. I could not shed my loyalties like a snake sheds its old skin, not even for Rhys. The white fabric pooled around my feet, and when I stepped out of it I felt more like myself again. No, I would not pretend to be other than what I was. On the contrary!

  When I had first arrived, a kind servant had washed and pressed all my clothes, and now I quickly found what I was looking for. At the bottom of my chest lay my Sikhandi court robe, rolled up carefully so the fabric would not crease. The vibrant green silk enveloped me in a cool embrace. Carefully I wrapped it around myself and folded back the long sleeves, so the full three layers would show. In order to move freely, I had long ago dispensed with tying up the underrobe in the prescribed confining manner and just fastened a sash round the middle. Another check in the mirror showed a proper Sikhandi lady looking back at me defiantly. Well, except for the hair hanging loosely around my face, but a large amount of hair pins borrowed from Cerwen fixed that, even if I wasn’t sure how long it would hold.

  Stepping out the room, I hesitated where to go. But a proper guest entered by the front door.

  * * *

  I swept past the guards into the great hall, the wide sleeves of my robe billowing out behind me, and just kept going. The place was full and abuzz with talk, but the noise dropped abru
ptly as I walked by.

  At the foot of the dais stood Rhys, surrounded by a knot of people. He turned round at my approach, and his eyes widened when I acknowledged him as my host with a bow. The others got no more than a quick nod, all they deserved from a lady of the Ninth Circle. I moved on with hardly a pause, and they automatically made way for me, all except Rhys who held out his hand to help me up the steps. I could hardly refuse this, yet once on the dais I would have dropped his fingers again. However, he somehow managed to tuck my arm under his elbow and escorted me to my place next to Lady Luned.

  “Grandmother, I have brought you your desired dinner companion,” he said and settled me in my chair.

  The old lady chuckled. “Mine or yours?”

  “Alas, we are not always free in our choices,” he answered.

  For a moment his hand rested on my shoulder. A touch as light as a feather, yet my whole awareness narrowed down to that single spot. With a bow he stepped away.

  What did Rhys mean by those words? Had he simply alluded to the seating order or to something more fundamental? Lady Luned seemed to think nothing of it, instead she plucked at my sleeve and smoothed out the silk to fall more elegantly.

  “Really, child,” she said, “if I’d known you had a dress like this tucked away, I wouldn’t have bothered to send you any of ours.” She cackled. “Compared to the other ladies you look like a bright kingfisher amongst wood doves.”

  I caught a glimpse of Lady Enit that moment, who was just taking her own seat, and she probably thought the same, for she shot me her habitual look of dislike. Not feeling particularly diplomatic, I stared right back. Owena next to her mother meanwhile floated along in soft pink. Lady Luned saw the exchange and cackled again – she seemed to be in high spirits!

  Servants came round with bowls of water to wash the hands of the guests at the high table, and I had to concentrate on not getting my long sleeves wet. When everyone was seated, Cerwen stepped forward to the edge of the dais.